


Captain's Personal Log

by CateAdams



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Bonding, M/M, T'hy'la
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 11:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16810087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CateAdams/pseuds/CateAdams
Summary: Jim attempts to relate recent event in an official log entry.





	Captain's Personal Log

“Captain’s Personal Log.” The captain cleared his throat and hesitated, his thoughts uncharacteristically stumbling.

_Stumbling through language; lost in space. Lost in something. Bones was right: Vulcans are a distracting enigma. Although, come to think of it, I don’t think the doctor used that phrase exactly._

Hidden in the darkened privacy of his own quarters, Jim smiled impulsively, simultaneously buoyed by the events of the evening and soothed by the knowledge that his ship and crew were soundly docked.

Shore leave meant a skeleton crew: less noise, fewer resources, the engines tuned down from their usual deep growl into a mere whisper, easily lost. Jim often found himself wandering alone through the bowls of the ship as she rested in her berth, searching out that faint, reassuring murmur.

_Of course, Spock could probably hear it from anywhere on the ship. And yet, he had gone there, too, into the depths of our ship. Without a PADD or tricorder or even a stated reason. He had sought me out._

Jim’s smile lingered warmly. He wasn’t one for wishing. Hoping, certainly, but wishing was something foreign to starship captains. He, at one time, had merely hoped that his second-in-command would respect him. He had, more recently, hoped for a friendship with the most compelling being he had ever met. And, tonight, he had hoped that his rounds would not be solitary. He had hoped for something more than friendship between them, a possibility that he had sensed but not dared to ask for.

“Humans do not have a word for it,” Spock had professed, as their quiet conversation had turned to the metaphysical.

“Vulcan barely do, either, my friend,” Jim had countered. “Presently, at least.”

Spock had paused, his lips slightly pursed, before inclining his head. “Indeed. It is an ancient practice.”

_I can’t describe how it feels when our thoughts touch. Even now, with this careening commentary in my head, I can’t begin to describe it with words. It’s closer to art or music. It’s closer to the reason I seek out the sound of my ship’s heart._

Jim’s smile changed into an expression of wonder. Explorers pursue the unknown. Occasionally, they throw themselves into it, but sometimes they step forward deliberately. Always, they move past uncertainty and fear and toward something that calls to them. Tonight, Jim had stepped forward to something that called to him. He could still feel the gentle press of his friend’s fingers against his face.

_This is ours._

His eyes had closed as the soft touch had burst into an open mind link, the bond between them molding itself fully into form. His _t’hy’la_ ’s hand had moved slowly from those ancient points of contact into a more human caress.

Jim opened his eyes now into the darkened privacy of his own quarters, calmly smiling again. He couldn’t feel their connection, any more than he could feel his ship’s muted reverberation here in the upper decks, but the silent reassurance was there, nevertheless.

“Captain’s Personal Log.” He paused before continuing clearly, “I have entered into a telepathic bond with my first officer.”

He shook his head. It was the wrong word for it, of course, but language only went so far.


End file.
